Will this be Osborne's worst week yet?

A higher deficit and a triple-dip recession could make this week even worse for the Chancellor than the last one.

Even by recent standards, last week was not a good one for George Osborne. Unemployment was found to have increased by 70,000, the IMF's chief economist warned that he was "playing with fire" by persisting with austerity, Carman Reinhart and Kenneth Rogoff, two of the economists that the Chancellor leant heavily on to justify his economic approach, had their research on debt and growth discredited, and Fitch became the second credit rating agency to strip the UK of its AAA rating

But worse could be to come this week. Tomorrow, borrowing figures for March will be released, the final set for the 2012-13 financial year, and, for the first time since Osborne entered office, they could show that the deficit has risen in annual terms. At the Budget, the OBR forecast that borrowing would be £120.9bn in 2012-13, £100m less than in 2011-12, after the Treasury forced government departments to underspend by an extraordinary £10.9bn in the final months of this year and delayed payments to some international institutions such as the UN and the World Bank. But that £100m difference leaves the Chancellor with little room for error if tax revenues fall short or spending is higher than expected. Whether the deficit marginally rose or fell in 2012-13 is of little economic significance, but it is of immense political significance. Until now, even as growth has disappeared, the Chancellor has been able to boast that borrowing "is falling" and "will continue to fall each and every year". A higher deficit would make it far harder for him to claim that Britain is "on the right track".

Then, two days later, we will learn whether the UK has suffered its first-ever triple-dip recession when the ONS releases its estimate for GDP in Q1 of this year. Again, the Chancellor is expected to have a lucky escape, with most forecasters, in common with the OBR, predicting output of around 0.1 per cent. But that also leaves Osborne with little room for comfort if growth undershoots expectations (as it done so often has in recent history). IPPR's senior economist Tony Dolphin comments: "It is touch and go whether we triple dip, I would say 50/50. Retail sales were up a fraction in March, but manufacturing is expected to be flat and ­construction down. Services will be positive, but the question is whether it will be positive enough to offset construction." Again, whether output slightly grew or slightly shrank in the first quarter is of little economic signifinance. The broad picture is one of prolonged stagnation, with periods of growth alternating with periods of contraction. But as Osborne will know, it's the politics that matter. An unprecedented triple-dip would intensify the calls from all sides - Tory backbenchers, Vince Cable, Labour - for a change of approach, be it Keynesian stimulus or a supply-side revolution. 

There is one way that Osborne could avoid a triple-dip even if the economy is found to have shrunk in Q1: the preceding double-dip could be revised away. After previously estimating that output fell by 0.3 per cent in the final quarter of 2011, the ONS now says it fell by just 0.1 per cent. The number could be further upgraded this week. But such technicalities will count for little if the economy is reported to have shrunk again. 

Tory MPs previously suggested that they would demand the removal of Osborne if the economy failed to show signs of recovery by this time, with one telling the Daily Mail: "You wouldn’t get 80 people supporting Adam Afriyie for leader but you might get 80 or 100 people saying get rid of George." There is little prospect of Cameron acquiescing to such demands. The Prime Minister and his closest political ally continue to rise and fall together. But with the local elections just over a week away and Labour showing signs of strain, a renewed bout of Tory infighting would be unwelcome for Cameron. 

Chancellor of the Exchequer George Osborne attends a press conference at the Treasury in Whitehall on February 6, 2013. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

Getty
Show Hide image

What David Hockney has to tell us about football

Why the sudden glut of blond footballers? A conversation I had with the artist back in 1966 gave me a clue. . .

In 1966, I went to interview David Hockney at a rather run-down flat in Bayswater, central London. He was 28 and had just won a gold medal at the Royal College of Art.

In his lavatory, I noticed a cut-out photograph from a newspaper of Denis Law scoring a goal. I asked if he was a football fan. He said no, he just liked Denis Law’s thighs.

The sub-editors cut that remark out of the story, to save any gossip or legal problems. In 1966 homosexual activity could still be an offence.

Hockney and a friend had recently been in the United States and had been watching an advert on TV that said “Blondes have more fun”. At two o’clock in the morning, slightly drunk, they both went out, bought some hair dye and became blond. Hockney decided to remain blond from then on, though he has naturally dark hair.

Is it true that blonds have more fun? Lionel Messi presumably thinks so, otherwise why has he greeted this brand-new season with that weird blond hair? We look at his face, his figure, his posture and we know it’s him – then we blink, thinking what the heck, does he realise some joker has been pouring stuff on his head?

He has always been such a staid, old-fashioned-looking lad, never messing around with his hair till now. Neymar, beside him, has gone even blonder, but somehow we expect it of him. He had foony hair even before he left Brazil.

Over here, blonds are popping up all over the shop. Most teams now have a born-again blondie. It must take a fortune for Marouane Fellaini of Man United to brighten up his hair, as he has so much. But it’s already fading. Cheapskate.

Mesut Özil of Arsenal held back, not going the full head, just bits of it, which I suspect is a clue to his wavering, hesitant personality. His colleague Aaron Ramsey has almost the full blond monty. Paul Pogba of Man United has a sort of blond streak, more like a marker pen than a makeover. His colleague Phil Jones has appeared blond, but he seems to have disappeared from the team sheet. Samir Nasri of Man City went startlingly blond, but is on loan to Seville, so we’re not able to enjoy his locks. And Didier Ndong of Sunderland is a striking blond, thanks to gallons of bleach.

Remember the Romanians in the 1998 World Cup? They suddenly appeared blond, every one of them. God, that was brilliant. One of my all-time best World Cup moments, and I was at Wembley in 1966.

So, why do they do it? Well, Hockney was right, in a sense. Not to have more fun – meaning more sex – because top footballers are more than well supplied, but because their normal working lives are on the whole devoid of fun.

They can’t stuff their faces with fast food, drink themselves stupid, stay up all night, take a few silly pills – which is what many of our healthy 25-year-old lads consider a reasonably fun evening. Nor can they spend all their millions on fun hols, such as skiing in the winter, a safari in the spring, or hang-gliding at the weekend. Prem players have to be so boringly sensible these days, or their foreign managers will be screaming at them in their funny foreign accents.

While not on the pitch, or training, which takes up only a few hours a day, the boredom is appalling, endlessly on planes or coaches or in some hotel that could be anywhere.

The only bright spot in the long days is to look in the mirror and think: “Hmm, I wonder what highlights would look like? I’ve done the beard and the tattoos. Now let’s go for blond. Wow, gorgeous.”

They influence each other, being simple souls, so when one dyes his hair, depending on where he is in the macho pecking order, others follow. They put in the day by looking at themselves. Harmless fun. Bless ’em.

But I expect all the faux blonds to have gone by Christmas. Along with Mourinho. I said that to myself the moment he arrived in Manchester, smirking away. Pep will see him off. OK then, let’s say Easter at the latest . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times